


When Thou Goest Forth to War

by PaulineDorchester



Series: Victory Roll [1]
Category: Foyle's War
Genre: Diary/Journal, Family, Gen, Illustrations, Letters, Other, Pre-Canon, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25413916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaulineDorchester/pseuds/PaulineDorchester
Summary: Late Summer and early Autumn, 1939: The nation goes to war. The Stewart family join the fray.
Series: Victory Roll [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840678
Comments: 12
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Sam, her father, her Uncle Aubrey, and (as far I can tell) the village of Leavenham, Hampshire, are all the creations of Anthony Horowitz. I have given a name and (I hope) a personality to Sam’s mother, a character referred to in canon but never seen or named. You will also find some bits of “Downton Abbey” and “Home Fires” crossover tucked into this story here and there; those are the creations of Julian Fellows and Simon Block, respectively. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit sought.
> 
> TO THE READER: This is a reworked version of a story that I published on Fanfiction.net in 2015. These revisions reflect what I’ve learned since then about the first weeks of World War II and the early history of the Mechanised Transport Corps. It remains a pleasure to thank Kivrin for serving as beta reader way back when; annieplusmacdonald and rosalindfan for their answers to my historical questions; rosalindfan (again) and artichokeheart, whose own stories gave me the courage to follow my instincts and use the present tense in the conversational sections of my story; and Gil Shalos I, whose stories inspired me to make Sam a diarist and to be unafraid of author’s notes. 
> 
> My heartfelt thanks as well to dragonsthough101, flameraven, irisdouglasiana, kivrin, missbuster, paeonia, pvoberstein, rosalindfan, sheron, and sholio for your support as I’ve prepared this, my first AO3 post.
> 
> A few snippets from this new version first appeared on Tumblr.
> 
> While this new version isn’t a graphic novel, some of the text is contained in image files. If you would prefer a text-only version, you’ll find it on FanFiction.net. I’m known there as Pauline Dorchester (two words); look for “When Thou Goest Forth to War (revised version).” In both versions, the use of italics and underlining is intended to simulate handwriting. The gray line indicates that the date has changed.

Thursday 31 August 1939  
 _Twenty years old today. Beautiful gift from Aunt Amy and Uncle Michael (they are here un_ _til Saturday! Huzzah!) – diary for 1940, bound in green Morocco, with my name on the front! Have therefore resolved to make real effort at keeping a diary, i.e. not simply thinking about what I would write if I did keep a diary. Unfortunately can’t think of anything to write, excepting that Dad and Mother gave me a very handsome copy of Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions (by John Donne, D’s favourite) and Uncle Aubrey telephoned and I had lovely cards from other uncles and Cousin Laura B._

_2.30 – Billeting officer (Mrs Prendergast from Crossbush) called after lunch, asked how many evacuees we can take, beginning tomorrow! (Also said that Women’s Legion will provide transport from Arundel rail station to billets, so car and self in uniform will be needed.) D quite abashed and M actually looked rather frightened but D said perhaps mother and one small child or two older children, not until Sunday as Aunt A and Uncle M will be in spare room until then. Mrs P not best pleased by this. Aunt A then told her that one more place will open up when I leave home for war work! Mrs P a bit happier – D and M positively thunderstruck!  
_

_9.00pm – Women’s Legion now topic of quite burning interest! Aunt A and Uncle M asked me to go for walk with them – not far, only up Lyminster Rd to bench by Brookfields. Aunt A sure that WL will disband if war breaks out – as they are both quite certain that it will! True that Lady Londonderry herself helped organise new Auxiliary Territorial Service – also true that WL now urging younger members to join ATS. Have read this in Times, etc. Uncle M thinks that ATS could be sent overseas in wartime, also that girls will be called up! Asked whether WAAF could be sent abroad as well – he said probably so. Told them I would rather join WAAF in that case. Looked surprised but Uncle M said he will ask Laura about this. However Aunt A thinks that I ought to join new organisation called Mechanised Transport Training Corps – gave me Times clipping about it. (From February!) Have to have driving license (do, of course); would be trained as mechanic and in first aid, map reading, etc. Address to write to. Promised to look into it but can see two problems straightaway: would have to move to London and as apparently no pay would need allowance. Really can’t see Dad and Mother agreeing to any of this.  
_

_Uncle M spent rest of afternoon until tea talking w Dad in D’s study. Politics and war, I think. D very gloomy afterwards but Uncle in high spirits. Plan for tea in garden scotched due to rain, but very nice anyway, though M in bad temper. Doesn’t much like having Aunt A here at best of times, I think. Not best of times at present.  
_

_Quite late – Heard on wireless that blackout regulations to be imposed effective tomorrow – as in last war, Aunt A says. M says we still have blackout curtains from then, I am to bring them to house from shed and hang them. (What about chauffeuring evacuees?) Germany claiming Polish attack on wireless station, place called Glyvits. _

* * *

Friday 1 September 1939  
 _Just heard on wireless Germany invaded Poland this morning! Quite odd to hear news on wireless this early, but nothing in Times or Sussex Express – must have happened too long after midnight. But Times has short item about Gleiwitz wireless station – Germany claims Polish spies forced their way in and sent out signal for Poland to attack Germany. Uncle most upset, says is undoubtedly German trick & we ought never to have let them re-arm after last war. Must now go fetch blackout curtains. Mother says Dad will hang them so there’s a problem solved.  
_

_Almost lunch time – Aunt and Uncle leaving today after lunch rather than tomorrow as planned. Really too bad, but suppose that they feel they ought to go back to Braithfield straightaway under circumstances. Uncle M said Chin Up.  
_

_For Arundel after lunch.  
_

_10.00pm – Quite trying afternoon – certainly not dull, but very long. Alas, evacuation leads to scenes of disorder & misery. Arrived Arundel station half past two, found crowd of locals waiting for evacuees. Reported to Commandant Mrs Ramsay-Jones, was told we are expecting infant school (pupils & staff) from Tooting in London as well as mothers w ‘under 5’ brothers & sisters of some of them (pupils, not staff). Mothers & children arrived half past three (an hour late) in three coaches – party larger than expected, apparently. Some took one look at Arundel and refused to disembark! Must have looked far too quiet to them after London. Not at all sure that I blame them. Rather sad looking company, though – all obviously quite hard up and probably worn out as well. (And hungry – sandwiches & buns set out for them gone in blink of an eye.) Mrs Prendergast & helpers began process of assigning hosts to guests (or other way ’round, I suppose). Drove one family to Tortington, returned to Arundel. Still no sign of school train by this time – finally arrived at a quarter to five – heard driver say had been sent to Haywards Heath first, had to go backwards & then come to Arundel!  
_

_Gave new arrivals what food was left, then began process of sorting them out. Must say am rather surprised this wasn’t done beforehand. (Sorting out, not feeding.) Mrs P. made Hattie Powell & me Deputy Billeting Officers for Lyminster – each took six children about village looking for places for them to stay. Several people said no – Mrs Clark shut door in my face! Finally found places for all except twin brothers, 6 y.o., who refused to be separated. Was about to bring them to vicarage for tonight at least, but Miss Mitchell volunteered to take them in. Hope that this will be alright as don’t think that she has much experience w children.  
_

_Was hoping to go to Wick to get copy of Evening Telegram but obviously not possible! Wireless to rescue – invasion by ground troops just before dawn today, followed by air raids on cities. Absolutely not provoked. We are mobilising along with France. Have promised in past to support Poland & will fulfill promise. As well, all regional wireless services shutting down w immediate effect – only one programme in future & vast number of news bulletins.  
_

_Dad organizing Vesper service for tomorrow eve. Can hear him on telephone now, asking people in parish to spread the word._

*****

*

* * *

Saturday 2 September 1939  
 _Posted notice about Vespers on Church Lane notice board on way to Wick shops this morning. Felt as though entire High Street were holding breath. People a bit jittery, too – not surprising, I suppose. Returned home to learn that Mrs Ramsay-Jones telephoned – found a louse in her car! D quite upset! Have inspected ours but seems to be all right. _

_Long article in Times on civil defence – imposition of full blackout, plus air-raid warning system. Factory horns, etc., not to be sounded now except to warn of raid. (Important note: warning is series of short blasts, all clear is single two-minute blast.) Also, plans for food rationing already in place. Horrible._

_Evening – Fifty-two people at Vespers. D quite pleased, I think! Letter from Aunt A in evening post w encouragement regarding Mechanised Transport Training Corps. Believes I need to leave nest – has been hinting to all concerned for a year or more – thinks this might be the way if war breaks out. (More question of when than if, as Aunt A says. Must face facts.)_

* * *

Sunday 3 September 1939  
 _We are at war. Was about to end previous sentence w exclamation point but in fact am feeling rather calm – not excited, not frightened. Am hoping this is good omen of some sort._

_At any rate woke up quite early this morning but didn’t go to Communion as did not fast. Dad says only seven people there. Not surprised – probably no one much feels like giving thanks just now. Gave D & Mother breakfast afterwards and we all went to Matins. Church rather crowded – would guess about 120 people. Some evacuees present. (D said from pulpit they are always welcome & we will make space for them in the Sunday School. Did not say precisely how we are to do this.) _ _Then at 11.20 or so Mr Woodworth (freethinker or not) came into church, cleared throat, said ‘Please excuse me,’ and told us very calmly that Mr Chamberlain had just gone on the wireless to say England at war with Germany. Everyone very quiet and really quite calm, at least at first. (Perhaps only startled at seeing Mr W in church.) D at once began to read Prayer in Time of War & Tumults, but only got as far as ‘merciful’ before air-raid siren sounded! Complete pandemonium – people in west half of nave gone in blink of an eye, but D had still to proclaim banns for Harold Bartlett and Juliet Smith and bellowed at everyone else to stay in place! Turned out to be only a test. (Air-raid warning, not banns.) However did not get to say Litany – only us & Mrs Netley left by that time, so really no point – and D said afterwards we will say it at Vespers. Highly irregular. _

_Later – Church absolutely packed for Vespers, but matters did not go as planned. Mr W showed up again just before start to announce the King going on wireless at 6.00. So, no Litany – fortunately D had not told anyone but us. Did read Prayer in Time of War & Tumults again & got all the way through this time! Everyone left very quickly after the dismissal. We arrived home just in time to listen to the King. Absolutely tip-top speech &_ _most moving, especially as HM is said to loathe giving speeches, but have to say war doesn’t feel real. Except for blackout, of course. And air-raid siren. And possible rationing._

_Past midnight – Have just heard on wireless SS Athenia, passenger ship for Canada, torpedoed in North Atlantic – 1,100 passengers, 300 crew. As well, cinemas etc. to be closed until farther notice! No doubt government worried about casualties in case of bomb, but bad for morale, surely? (Rather unimportant though, compared w ship.)_

* * *

Monday 4 September 1939  
 _Uncle Desmond telephoned from Manchester to say he will rejoin his regiment from the last war – The Duke of Manchester’s Own, sounds quite romantic – but of course as a chaplain this time.  
_

_Noon – Wireless reports SS Athenia sunk at 10.40 this morning. Most people on board rescued.   
_

_Later – Dad quite irritated by article in Times about evacuation claiming children happy in new homes & hosts delighted w their charges. Spent most of day hearing decidedly otherwise from various in parish. However Times quite full of interesting items today, including letter protesting closure of theatres – says no one killed in theatres during last war. Nice photograph of King & Queen standing arm in arm at home, as well as rather dull ones of War Cabinet, etc., the whole text of HM’s speech yesterday (it really was awfully good, and a copy is to be posted to every home), instructions for motorists in air raids, etc. Mr Hanley called after tea, told us both Giles and Wilfred enlisting. Quite upset. Left us his Brighton Evening Telegram w story about SS Athenia on front page, but not as much information as wireless.  
_

_Mother in bed with headache most of afternoon.  
_

_Have decided quite definitely to look into organisation in Aunt Amy’s clipping – Mechanised Transport Training Corps. _ _Wireless began series on first aid this eve, most interesting, will continue through Friday._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making Sam as young as I have made her here seems to create a conflict with “Fifty Ships” (September 1940) in which Sam describes her billet-mate Jenny Wentworth as being a year her senior at 23. She does this in the immediate aftermath of a traumatic incident and on insufficient sleep, so let’s suppose that she is simply confused at that moment.
> 
> Sam’s account of the events of September 3rd, 1939, in Lyminster is loosely based on the one given in “And Hitler Stopped Play: Cricket & War at Lyminster House,” by George Cooper (Cambridge, U.K.: Vanguard Press, 2001).
> 
> Red Rice, Andover, is an actual place in Hampshire, although it appears that in reality there was no freehold farming there until the 1960s.
> 
> The Women’s Legion was founded in 1914 by Edith Vane-Tempest-Stewart, Marchioness of Londonderry, to fill shortages of cooks, clerical workers, drivers, and other personnel created by the need for troops during the First World War. Most of its members joined the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps when that body was formed in 1917, but the Mechanical Transport Section – about 5,500 personnel – remained a freestanding body, serving abroad as well as in Britain. Mrs. Grace Muriel Cook was second in command of the M.T. Section in France and was made an Officer of the Order of the British Empire in 1919 in recognition of her efforts. The Women’s Legion disbanded after the war, but Lady Londonderry relaunched it in 1934, putting Mrs. Cook in command of the M.T. Division in London. The War Office recognized this new Women’s Legion up to a point, but the revival of the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps in 1938 – under a new name, the Auxiliary Territorial Service – raised questions about the Legion’s future. (Surprisingly, an article in The Times on May 6th, 1938, reports that Lady Londonderry herself was involved in founding the A.T.S.) 
> 
> At some point thereafter, Mrs. Cook received Lady Londonderry’s approval to set up a separate all-woman corps of drivers and mechanics, and in January, 1939, the members of the London M.T. unit voted unanimously to create an independent organization. The new Mechanised Transport Training Corps was announced in The Times – and nowhere else, as far as I can tell – on February 13th, 1939. (The word “training” was dropped from the name by May 1940.) The Women’s Legion appears to have carried on, although on a much smaller scale and with a narrower scope than previously.
> 
> This information comes primarily from Ernest J. Martin, “Women’s War Work with the Army: Short Account of the Dress and Badges of the Women’s Auxiliary and Nursing Services, 1900-1945,” Journal of the Society for Army Historical Research, vol. 23, no. 94 (Summer, 1945), pp. 54-65; and “Within the Island Fortress: The Uniforms, Insignia & Ephemera of the Home Front in Britain 1939-1945, No. 4: The Mechanised Transport Corps (MTC),” by Jon Mills (Orpington, Kent: Wardens Publishing, 2008). The latter seems to be the closest thing to a published history of the M.T.C. that we currently have.
> 
> The Brighton Evening Telegram is fictional; news stated as appearing there was actually printed in various Sussex weeklies. All other newspaper & magazine items are authentic. I have also made use of Radio Times, although of course I have no way of knowing whether broadcasts actually took place as announced.


	2. Chapter 2

*****

Tuesday 5 September 1939  
 _Wrote and posted letter to M.T.T.C. this morning. Suspect Dad would say too many sentences begin w ‘I’. Then again am subject of letter. Item about them in today’s Times – they run errands of mercy, care for government cars, need 120 more drivers immediately. Quite bucked by this, but feel definitely best to keep quiet about it. Will have to make extra effort for next several days to meet postman before Dad or Mother. _

_Later – Women’s Legion today – drove the Misses Hallett to dentist in Arundel & back. Spoke w Mrs Ramsay-Jones about Legion’s prospects for war service. Very gloomy – she thinks it’s unlikely WL will ever be ‘deployed.’ Have just now looked this up in dictionary. _ _Guessed spelling correctly, very pleased._ _Means to_ _move troops or equipment into position for military action. So must mean Mrs R-J thinks we won’t help Forces or even Government, and that none of us will ever be sent anywhere._

_Read full account of Athenia in Times – most passengers safe. Largely Canadians, some Americans. Submarine gave no warning at all. Times has as well new information about petrol rationing – amount of petrol allowed will depend on car’s horse-power. Very good letter from Mr G.B. Shaw protesting closure of theatres._

* * *

Wednesday 6 September 1939  
 _Air raid warning again this morning, just after 8.00. Dad, Mother & self to Anderson shelter – quite comfortable, although perhaps less so for long period of time. All clear sounded about 1 hr later. Was apparently false alarm. At any rate wireless reports Germans attempted air raid on east coast this morning but turned back before reaching shore, not clear as to why – might have been frightened off by our forces, but perhaps also due to bad weather. Mother quite perturbed by this news, but also seemed excited – very odd._

*****

* * *

Thursday 7 September 1939  
 _Disaster! Dad met postman this morning – intercepted letter from M.T.T.C., gave to me with very suspicious look, I thought. In any case M.T.T.C. simply not possible – pays nothing, members must have family support or private incomes. Would indeed have to move to London as well – rather exciting idea really, but obviously not possible w/out D’s approval._

_Have just heard we must all go to Wick village hall tomorrow to receive ration-books for petrol and food, though no definite date yet to start using latter._

_ West _ _ Sussex Gazette says 1,300 evacuees received in district._

*****

* * *

Friday 8 September 1939  
 _Littlehampton Gazette carries large notice about having one’s gas mask with one at all times. Must be more careful about this – heard Mr Hobden was turned out of Chichester train yesterday for not having his. Paper announces as well that local children will go to school in the mornings & evacuees during the afternoon. Had been wondering about this. Also wondering how well it will go. _

_Later – To village hall w Dad to get ration-books for selves & Mother. Some there were grumbling about rationing, etc. Many complaints about evacuees – dirty, rude, etc. D said good opportunity to exercise Christian charity. Held breath waiting for someone to ask in that case why no evacuees at vicarage, but Mrs Burtenshaw spoke up & said she likes her evacuees – clever, jolly, make things more lively, etc. – then added ‘Such a pity, Mr Stewart, that Mrs Stewart’s nerves won’t allow you to take any on’. Conversation quite gummed up! And certainly true, but a bit mortifying to have it aired in public in that manner. Feeling quite sorry for M. Wonder what war will make of her. Still want more than anything to leave Lyminster, but wonder whether this is proper time. _

* * *

Saturday 9 September 1939  
 _Wireless announces very good news – Home Secretary has seen error of ways and has allowed cinemas, etc., to reopen! In case of air raid audience will be given notice & programme stopped for five minutes for anyone who wants to go to shelter. All programmes to end by 10.00pm – seems only sensible in blackout. Telephoned Regal in Wick to ask about programme but no answer. For shops there after lunch, shall find out. _

_Later – Regal still closed until farther notice – manager joined up on Monday, so no-one to run it! Really too bad! As well, heard following story at butcher’s: Mr Powell discovered two hens missing from coop this morning. Gone w/out trace. Meanwhile, Mrs Burtenshaw’s evacuees presented her w two hens, told her they could get more if she wants! She summoned constable and Mrs Prendergast, quite furious, wants evacuees removed!_

* * *

Sunday 10 September 1939  
 _Went to Communion (only six people), came home, cooked breakfast for all, tidied up, by that time too late to go to Matins. Dad said church about half full, and two men from choir are gone – both joined up._

_Article in Sunday Times about W.A.A.F. – pay for motor transport drivers starts at 1s. 4d. a day, rises to 2s. 4d. a day ‘when mustered as aircraft women first class.’ Not enough to live on, really – then again everything seems to be provided for them (meals, etc.) – quite unlike M.T.T.C! _

_Later –_ _Several parents of evacuees visited here today. All smiles so far as I saw, but parents of Miss Mitchell’s evacuees took children back to London with them._

* * *

Monday 11 September 1939  
 _Times really quite filled with interesting items today! Information on how those who need extra petrol rations will be able to obtain them. Very long list of subjects now prohibited to be photographed. War Cabinet states will base policies on idea that war will last at least three years. (Not very cheering, of course – Dad quite gloomy after reading this.) Lots of good letters as well – from vicar in Wilts urging fairer petrol rations for people in country locations, several on evacuation. (D cheerier.) Esp. agreed w one urging that social service workers be sent to country from towns to help solve problems. Very good idea – could explain town and country to one another – suspect that really ought to be done. Best of all – article announcing several police departments have begun to retain women as special constables and also to drive police cars! Not anywhere south of Herts apparently, but perhaps idea will catch on here. Wonder what D&M would say were I to show article to them._

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fourteen was the minimum age for leaving school in England and Wales from 1918 until 1945 (when it was raised to 15). Those who stayed until age 15 with an acceptable academic record were awarded a School Certificate (the equivalent, I suppose, of today's GCSEs). I have been unable to discover the minimum educational requirement for enlisting in the A.T.S., W.A.A.F., or W.R.N.S. (or the M.T.C., for that matter); but Sam states in “The German Woman” that she wanted to be in the W.A.A.F. but ended up in the M.T.C., and it seems plausible that a lack of formal education led to this.


	3. Chapter 3

Tuesday 12 September 1939  
 _Listened w Mother this morning to dreadfully dreary programme on wireless – ‘Making the Most of a Wartime Larder,’ w Mrs Arthur Webb. M likes Mrs W’s cookery books but she is very dull speaker. (Mrs W, not M.) Even M thought so – fell asleep!_

_Later – Have decided not to tell either D or M about women joining police depts but did clip article.  
_

_No instructions from Women’s Legion today._

*****

*****

‘Your colour is much better today, Mother. Your appetite seems better than yesterday, as well.’

‘Thank you, Samantha. Your father _did_ cook luncheon, after all.’

Sam decides to change the subject.

‘Do you think that there will be more air-raids like the one on Wednesday, Mother? That one was a failure, of course, and nowhere near _here_ , but they might try again.’

‘Oh, I’m quite _sure_ that they will. People are saying “over by Christmas” – even your dear father seems to think so, to judge from his sermon at Matins on Sunday last – but that’s what they said the last time. I’m afraid that this is likely to be a long war, perhaps longer even than the last; the Germans bear a grudge against us. We’ll never give up, of course, but neither will they, until we force them to do so.’

‘Do you think that the government will expand conscription?’

‘I suppose that they might _have_ to do that at some point, although men _do_ seem to be volunteering.’

‘It would be better to volunteer than to wait to be called up, wouldn’t it?’

‘Well... I suppose that from a _moral_ viewpoint, yes, it would be. Unless it were a case of a man being his family’s only support, or some other mitigating circumstance. _You_ hardly need worry about that, however.’

‘It might be better to worry now rather than later.’

‘What _ever_ do you mean? Samantha, the glare from that lamp is giving me a headache. Put it out, will you, please?’

‘You never talk about what _you_ did during the last war,’ Sam continues, after doing that.

‘I’d already been married to your father for several years when the last war began.’

_Oh, yes, of course_ , Sam thinks. _And constantly either with child or burying the ones who didn’t thrive. How dreadful to have to think of that_.

But she cannot bring herself to change the subject again.

‘What about during the South African War?’

‘I was a child then, Samantha.’

_It’s no good_ , Sam thinks. _I shall have to simply ask her right out_. ‘What do you think would be the best sort of war service for _me_ to do, Mother?’

‘ _Oh_. Well, yes, we _ought_ to discuss that at some point.’ Mother is silent for a moment. ‘I do read the newspaper, you know,’ she goes on. ‘I’m aware that the Women’s Legion isn’t likely to be given much of a role. It seems quite odd that Lady Londonderry would be so much involved with setting up the body that it now seems will supplant it. You’re the age that they want.’

Sam wants to explain that the A.T.S. isn’t actually what she has in mind, but Mother continues speaking before she can say anything.

_It’s always like this_ , Sam thinks. She hears herself sigh and hopes that she hasn’t done so too loudly.

‘I have to say, though,’ Mother is saying now, ‘that I don’t like the idea that you would be sent away somewhere. That’s what seems to be happening to many of these girls.’

‘Like Laura! Uncle Michael doesn’t seem to mind.’

‘Laura is a decade older than you are, Samantha, and has had more experience of life.’

That, Sam feels, is a bit much.

‘Well, of _course_ she has! She has an advanced school certificate, _and_ a university degree!’

‘You’re right,’ Mother says after a moment. ‘I apologise, Samantha, dear. That was unkind of me. It must seem to you that I have missed a great adventure in life,’ she continues. ‘Perhaps you are right about _that_ , as well, but it was simply never my row to hoe. Seeing the harm that the last war inflicted on so many of those who survived it, I actually felt quite blessed, in a way, to have been relegated to the sidelines, despite my own troubles during those years.’

‘Do you think that this war will be worse than the last in that way, Mother?’

‘I don’t see how it _couldn’t_ be. Not that I wouldn’t describe this as a _just_ war. Far from it – it’s much more so than the last one was. And I will concede, Samantha, that all hands are likely to be needed to bring us through it. We _will_ talk with your father about some sort of appropriate service that you can perform. But I’ve yet to be convinced that girls like Laura won’t be... _damaged_ in some way by their experience. I take it,’ Mrs Stewart continues, ‘that you feel compelled to look _elsewhere_ for an opportunity to serve.’

‘The thing of it is, Mother,’ Sam replies after a moment’s silence, ‘Lyminster is such a _small_ place that there won’t be much _need_ for war workers here, or much _opportunity_. I would probably _have_ to go away somewhere.’

‘That is precisely what worries me. Who will look after me when I’m unwell? Far more importantly, who will look after _you_ _?’_

‘I’m almost _never_ ill, Mother.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of _illness_ , Samantha.’

Sam looks out of the window. She can’t think of anything more to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Researching what Sam’s cost of living would have been proved very challenging. I finally found a web page titled Wartime Money (taken down since then, it appears), that stated that the average household’s weekly earnings in the UK in 1939 amounted to £3 17s., and in the absence of any other figures I am taking that as accurate. Sam will have only herself to support, so I am assuming that she can make do with less.


	4. Chapter 4

Wednesday 13 September 1939  
 _Item in Times today notes fewer letters being sent since war began. Family not contributing to this trend. Was meant to spend day in garden helping Dad, but Mother turned her ankle getting out of bath so had to care for that. Oughtn’t to admit this, but can’t help wondering sometimes if she does that sort of thing deliberately. _

*****

* * *

Thursday September 14  
 _‘Making the best of a restricted diet’ on wireless this morning. Presenter apparently a doctor – can’t say that this made any difference. Most depressing. Times announces blackout rules revised – car headlights & hand-torches to be allowed if properly dimmed – gives instructions for doing this. Rather complicated._

_Later – Hanley brothers to tea before leaving tomorrow to join Army. Wilfred only 17 years old! D tried hard to be encouraging but think he was really rather upset._

*****

* * *

*****

Friday 15 September 1939  
 _Nearly 8.00pm – Have just heard on wireless that start of petrol rationing will be delayed 1 week, until the 23 rd – seems that many people have had not had time to get coupons! Wireless somewhat improved this week. Was quite dull & useless for the most part last week. Mr Sandy MacPherson still broadcasting at least twice each day however – poor man must be about to drop from exhaustion! Littlehampton Gazette says someone spreading rumours that food rationing already begun & ought to have registered w retailers by now. Gazette says absolutely not true; also says ‘if & when rationing scheme put into force’ will be announced through official channels. If & when – so perhaps no food rationing after all!_

* * *

Saturday 16 September 1939  
 _News on wireless: British convoy sailing from Liverpool to North America attacked today by German submarine ship. HMS Aviemore was sunk. Wireless says this is first clear convoy contact in British waters since war began. News in Times: Welsh National Eisteddfod and various exhibitions, AGMs, etc., being postponed until further notice or simply cancelled. People have been calling this a ‘phony war,’ but sounds as though they are beginning to take matters seriously._

* * *

Sunday 17 September 1939  
 _Good crowd at Matins this morning but mostly women and girls. Seventeen men from parish called up during last fortnight, nine others volunteered. Also, Hattie Powell enlisted in A.T.S. and awaiting assignment! Told this last bit to Dad and Mother, got chilly looks in return – clearly different approach needed._

_Later – Forgot to write that D began Matins by having us all sing ‘God Save the King.’_

*

‘Dad, may I ask your advice about something?’

‘Of course, Samantha. At any time.’

‘Well... ’ Sam hesitates, takes a deep breath to steel herself and goes on. ‘How do you think that I can best be of service to our nation’s cause during this war?’

‘By remaining where you are and being a help to your mother and father.’ The Rev. Iain Stewart looks directly at his daughter for what feels to her like the first time in ages. ‘I do hope, Samantha, that you don’t imagine casting your lot with these one of these new organisations that allow women to pretend that they are servicemen.’

‘They’re not _entirely_ new, Dad. There were _lots_ of women in uniform during the last war – not only nurses like Aunt Amy. She’s told me all about it.’

‘Your mother and I did not make the wisest choice in asking your Aunt Aemelia to stand godmother to you, I fear; she’s decidedly _not_ the best influence. I do wish, for one thing, that the two of you wouldn’t call each other by those vulgar diminutives that you favour. More to the point, however, _she_ forgets and _you_ ought to consider what Deuteronomy tells us about women captives, the way in which they are inevitably degraded and humiliated.’

‘But I wouldn’t be going anywhere _near_ the actual _fighting_ , Dad.’

‘We have no way of knowing _where_ the actual fighting will _be_.’

‘Well... that’s true, of course. But if it were _here_ , I might be taken prisoner anyway, whether I was in the service or not.’

‘We can cross that bridge when we come to it, and _if_ we do so. In any case, by the time you attain your majority we will once again be at peace. And victorious, I might add.’

‘Do you really think so, Dad?’

‘I am sure of it.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Scripture that Sam’s father refers to is Deuteronomy 21:10-14, which instructs victorious soldiers on the treatment of female POWs (and whose opening words, in the King James Version, give this story its title). I have always been taught that this passage, while acknowledging the realities of warfare, is intended to discourage the idea of women as chattel. Mr. Stewart, coming from a different tradition than I do, might perhaps have more literal — and less optimistic — view of these verses.


	5. Chapter 5

Monday 18 September 1939  
 _Admiralty announced this afternoon sinking of our warship H.M.S. Courageous off coast of Ireland by German submarine (called u-boat, apparently), which they think was sunk by our destroyers afterwards. Some survivors rescued, but no more information than that._

* * *

Tuesday 19 September 1939  
 _No instructions from Women’s Legion today so drove Dad and Mother to visit Mr and Mrs Powell and Hattie. Mr and Mrs P very proud of H – wonderful to see. However Mr P insisted that British forces now leaving for France, also that HMS Courageous was sunk w help from Ireland – on Germany’s side, he said. Dad furious, gave him stern lecture about spreading gossip. Quite right, too, but nice visit ruined._

_Later – D’s mood not improved by report in Brighton Evening Telegram: Bishop West visited Worthing, said worship ought not to begin w national anthem (amongst other things). _

* * *

Wednesday 20 September 1939  
 _More news about HMS Courageous – 681 rescued, but 518 of our servicemen dead or unaccounted for. _

_Cannot think of anything else to write. Am feeling rather useless today._

*****

* * *

Thursday 21 September 1939  
 _West Sussex Gazette full of stories of dirty and unruly evacuees, but also report about pair of evacuated teachers rejecting billet because it had no bath. Times has photographs of London Passenger Transport Board’s lost property office – filled w gas-masks and helmets. _

* * *

Friday 22 September 1939  
 _Petrol rationing begins tomorrow. To Arundel after breakfast to fill tank. Was in queue for 3/4 of an hour but quite orderly._

_Longish article in Times today – Home Secretary says only one-third of civil defence workers being paid, so M.T.T.C. not out of step. Dad says I am spending too much time reading newspapers, does no-one any good. Quite possibly true, but can’t seem to take anything else in at present._

* * *

Saturday 23 September 1939  
 _Dad very bucked up by letter from Bishop of St. Albans in Times today, calling for relief from petrol rationing for clergy. _

_Later – Wireless announces instructions for drivers and bicyclist in air raid: stop as soon as can find shelter, do not leave vehicle where it will be in the way of emergency vehicles, follow instructions from police, A.R.P. wardens, etc. Cars to be left unlocked, valuable items removed. Headlamps must be switched off at night whether air raid or not, rear lamps to be alight. (Strikes me as poor idea – how to keep from running people down as they go over the road?)_

* * *

Sunday 24 September 1939  
 _Times reports Friday will be National Registration Day – 1931 census out of date, so new ‘census’ to be taken for use as basis of emergency measures including food rationing._

* * *

Monday 25 September 1939  
 _Item in Times notes that people being advised ‘Wear White for Safety’ so that one can be seen a bit in the blackout. Says now possible to purchase collars, cuffs, etc., made of white piqué. All very well, but won’t show under coat – would need white scarf, or perhaps something to wear on hat. Times also reports two policemen were attacked in blackout on Friday night – a sergeant in Cardiff, who has a skull fracture, and a detective sergeant in London. How horrid! _

* * *

Tuesday 26 September 1939  
 _Received National Registration forms in morning post – will be collected Saturday. Instructions state that ‘the occupation of wives not following any employment should be listed as “unpaid domestic duties”.’ Does not say anything about twenty-year-old daughters not following any employment._

_No instructions from Women’s Legion._

* * *

Wednesday 27 September 1939  
 _Mrs Fennimore came by, supposedly only to say hello, but also as it turned out to try to persuade Mother to join Lyminster & Poling Women’s Institute at last. Think that this would be very good idea, but M uninterested as ever. Not even especially polite about it this time. Mrs F then turned to me – told her that I would consider it – did not want to say am planning to leave Lyminster – & Poling & district – as soon as can arrange._

* * *

Thursday 28 September 1939  
 _Times reports Warsaw on verge of surrender. Went to Wick to run errands – very sad atmosphere.  
Later – Dad cheerful after receiving telegram from the Rev. Mr Percival Holt, old friend from Westcott House days, who is to be vicar of St Nicholas, Poling, w immediate effect. Long interregnum there – parish must be quite glad. _

* * *

Friday 29 September 1939  
 _Times and wireless confirm Warsaw surrendered to Germans. Tried to talk again to Dad and Mother about war service. M took my part up to a point, said there’s a need for everyone to do something, still insists I must do my bit close to home, billet ‘not suitable for young girl,’ etc., etc._

* * *

Saturday 30 September 1939  
 _Man in bowler hat came by to collect registration form this morning. Was rather rude to Dad – told him ‘there’s a war on,’ and said I should be ‘put to use!’ Not sure whether this helps or hurts._

* * *

Sunday 1 October 1939  
 _Took Holy Communion this morning. Thought that this would provide feeling of strength, courage, fortitude, etc., but in fact quite distressed as only two other people in pews. (Mother reports ca 3 dozen people at Matins.)_

_Much later – Mr & Mrs Holt to tea. Left scones in oven slightly too long but otherwise menu turned out rather well. Mr & Mrs H quite nice, around same age as Dad, no children apparently. D & Mr H scandalised (or pretended to be?) by item in Sunday Times announcing first woman professor at Cambridge. M & Mrs H defended her, or perhaps simply idea of her. Then Mr H asked me what are my plans for war service. Saw D about to say something, don’t know what, so told them about Women’s Legion problem and M.T.T.C. Said ‘Splendid idea.’ (Mr H, not self.) Feeling a bit more bucked up. _

* * *

Monday 2 October 1939  
 _Wireless reports all men 20-22 to be called up, however farming reserved occupation, and article in Times says some young men who left farms in recent years now going back. Says some farmers lack workers due to labourers joining Territorial Army or Reservists being called up. Women’s Land Army helping out but not enough to meet demand – refugees doing work in some cases. Wondering now if ought to consider Land Army. Thanks to Uncle M know how to drive tractor so might have possibilities. As well, who will do jobs of young men being called up?_

* * *

Tuesday 3 October 1939  
 _At war for a month today._

 _ Times _ _has very good map of Western Front – entire page. Dad clipped it, will put it up on corkboard in study. Also says 35,000 more schoolchildren to be evacuated from all over England. Not all at once this time – good thing. 8,000 from London, so we may get more here._

_No instructions from W.L._

* * *

Wednesday 4 October 1939  
 _Rather troubling day. To Crossbush w Dad in rain to visit various having great difficulties w evacuees. Evacuees won’t eat food put on table but steal from larder instead – befoul hosts’ homes – use foul language – etc. Brighton Evening Telegram leader is on just this topic – so problems apparently not only in Crossbush. But makes no suggestion as to what ought to be done, says only ‘something’. Times more cheering – many lovely photos of London in black-out, also of Mr Robert Donat in Romeo & Juliet at theatre in Streatham. Very handsome. Should dearly love to see this – must remember in case go to London for war work. As well, article about emergency register of qualified women available for National Service work. (Queen and Duchess of Kent went to inspect.) 5,000 names to date – 100 being added each day. Wondering now how to go about adding my name. Wondering as well what I am qualified to do._

* * *

Thursday 5 October 1939  
 _Times announces that Mr Bernard Stubbs will cover home front, civil defence, war at sea, etc., for B.B.C. using recording car. Wonder if I could get job driving it for him? Really no point in keeping diary if I am to spend war here in Lyminster knitting Balaclavas or the like._

* * *

Friday 6 October 1939  
 _Drove to Arundel shops w Mother. Discussed whether to register w retailers in Wick or A when rationing begins. (Horrible, but must face facts.) Decided to register Wick (closer), but M wanted change of scene today. Consider this good sign, however too far for her to walk, so w petrol rationing will not be able to go very often in future._

_Tip-top ‘Mrs Miniver’ letter in Times today. (Know that she is not real person, of course, but would dearly like to meet her all the same!) She returns to London in search of war job – wants job driving large car for important man who tells her to ‘step on it’ – then she sees disguised straight-8 gaining on them! Exactly sort of war job I should like! Best not to mention this to D and M. Wonder whether am being a bit selfish, wanting excitement, not only to serve. (As well, Mrs M suspects that this sort of man does own driving. Really too bad.)_

_Later – Raining. M now lying down w headache. Occurred to me she was planning this morning for us to register w grocer etc. – not just D and herself. Will I still be in Lyminster when food rationing begins? Will be January by then. But feel rather guilty about wanting to leave when she is unwell.  
_

* * *

*****

‘It’s a pity about the rain,’ Sam remarks as her father returns to the parlour from upstairs.

‘I quite agree,’ Dad replies. ‘It so often has a deleterious effect on your poor mother. A change in the barometric pressure is often what seems to set off one of her headaches.’

Sam nods. She’s observed this herself. Dad joins her in the sitting room and, to Sam’s mild surprise, begins leafing through _Radio Times_.

‘The _Brighton Evening Telegram_ is here,’ she tells him, proffering it.

‘Yes?’ he says, although he doesn’t take it from her and doesn’t sound much interested.

 _He looks awfully tired_ , Sam thinks.

‘It says here that the Bishop says that there are now 146,512 more people in the diocese – as a result of the evacuation, you see,’ she explains.

Dad looks up. ‘I _strongly_ suspect that that figure is too small,’ he announces after considering this for a moment. ‘Bishop Wood thinks only of his own... _wing_ , I suppose that one might say. He means Anglicans, of course, and possibly Nonconformists and no doubt any members of the Confessing Church, in Germany, who have come to Britain as refugees. But I rather doubt that he means Roman Catholics, and he most certainly doesn’t mean Jews.’

He goes back to _Radio Times_ as he speaks, and then tells Sam, ‘There’s going to be an orchestral concert on the wireless at a quarter past – five minutes from now. How would you like to listen to that?’ He hands the magazine to his daughter.

‘Won’t we disturb Mother?’ she asks.

‘No, apparently not. She told me that she wouldn’t mind as long as we don’t turn the volume up too far. She’s feeling somewhat better, I think – not quite well enough to come downstairs, perhaps, but I left her sitting up a bit and reading _The Sphere_.’

‘It’s a bit surprising – isn’t it, really? – that they’re still playing music by Germans,’ Sam ventures after a moment’s silence.

‘Some people would say that we’re at war with the present German _government_ , not with the German people. The Bishop would say that, I’m _quite_ sure.’

‘What do _you_ think, Dad?’

‘I’m not entirely sure _what_ I think,’ Dad admits, ‘much less of what I _ought_ to think. But in any event the piece that they’re going to play is by Johann Strauss, who died many years before Mr Hitler came to power, and who in point of fact was an Austrian, not a German – although I don’t suppose that _that_ makes a difference anymore.’ He is silent for a moment. Then, as he turns to switch the wireless on, he asks, ‘Did you notice that _The Times_ was only fourteen pages, today? The government have been warning about a paper shortage. This may be the first evidence.’

Later, Sam will write in her diary that she suspects that Dad doesn’t care for Bishop Wood – it’s something that she’s never considered before today – and as well that their ability to have such a calm, civil conversation during which he doesn’t admonish her about anything is surely a good sign.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Bishop Wood whom we meet in “Plan of Attack” is based on George Bell (1883-1958), who served as Bishop of Chichester from 1929 until his death. (The Church of England’s Diocese of Chichester comprises the entire County of Sussex, both East and West, including the real-life village of Lyminster.) Bell’s extremely selective comprehension of Nazism, which he seems to have understood solely as an anti-Christian ideology (as indeed it was), and his unwillingness to believe that the traditional leaders of the German populace — which is to say its hereditary aristocracy: when the blue-blooded Field Marshall Erich von Manstein was tried for war crimes in 1949, Bell became his vocal defender — could embrace such ideas led him repeatedly to condemn the Allies’ conduct during both the war and its aftermath. 
> 
> I should note that I have had to learn about Bell and his views from secondary sources. He was a prolific writer, but his works are almost impossible to find in the U.S.


	6. Chapter 6

Sunday 8 October 1939  
_Twelve people at Communion, thirty-eight at Matins. Dad quite pleased, says quite good turn-out for 18 th Sunday after Trinity, especially under present circumstances. Had been talking about not holding Harvest Home festival, now might reconsider._

_Mother a good bit better today._

_Read in Sunday Times British women who have married aliens have lost citizenship, therefore barred from war work. Seems quite unfair – ought not to cease to be British because of marriage to foreign gentleman. (As well, what about women refugees who want to help war effort? Obviously not citizens, so what are they to do? Seems quite unfair as well.) At any rate Nat’l Council of Women of G.B. seeking new law to change this. (So that they can keep nationality, not only do war work.)_

_Later – Vespers less successful than Communion or Matins, only eight people. Much the same last week. D thinks problem is black-out, but also people wanting to be at home for news on wireless at 6.00. Says really quite extraordinary how quickly people have got used to all this journalism on wireless and even grown to like. Quite true! Says as well, next Sunday will take wireless set to church, people can arrive before six, listen to news, then Vespers. Not certain whether he is joking or not. _

* * *

Monday 9 October 1939  
_Steady rain. Mrs R-J telephoned, warned me not to expect further instructions from Women’s Legion. Times listed names & service records of seven R.A.F. officers killed on active service recently, also reports Army company in Staffs gave collar badges worn by serving soldiers to members of A.T.S. company helping them – really quite nice story, but makes me wish that I were there, actually doing something to help war effort, rather than here, doing nothing at all. Mother had nervous headache and was a bit sick as well. Wanted to telephone Dr Whittaker but M said not to. Seemed better in early p.m. Drove Dad on parish visits, learned at least one more evacuee was fetched home yesterday. Listened to wireless programme this eve, ‘Falstaff Goes to War’ (bits from Shakespeare play, or more than one) – enjoyed this, felt a bit better, but still rather miserable day on the whole. _

*****

* * *

Tuesday 10 October 1939  
_More rain, but brightened a bit after lunch. Times has thrilling story of Englishman who escaped from Poland early last month w great difficulty via Rumania. (In fact written by him, but name not given. Why do newspapers do this? Most puzzling.) Tale actually a bit frightening at points – even so, would be most thrilled to have adventure of that sort! _

_Times has as well two lists – first, entire staff of Ministry of Information w their salaries and previous occupations. Quite fascinated by this. Drawn from all sorts of places – other parts of H.M.G., universities, newspapers, trade. However does not say what each of them does there. Some being paid rather a good deal of money, others nothing at all! _

_Other list terribly sad – all those lost in torpedoing of Athenia, w ages and nationalities. Many children and refugees killed._

*****

* * *

*****

Wednesday 11 October 1939  
_Have just re-read diary from birthday through yesterday. Tend rather to flit about from topic to topic & wondering whether I do this in conversation as well. Must make greater effort at coherence._

_Dad rather alarmed to receive envelope from War Office in morning post. Turned out to be circular warning clergy not to give out any information re troop movements, location of units etc. Said not to print in parish circular, but D wonders whether ought to stop mentioning things like this in pulpit. Says will bring it up at Rural Deanery meeting on Friday. Pointed out (self, not D) that Fri will be 13 th. Think D thought this amusing, replied only ‘Wartime.’ _

_Later – D now in foul mood. Just learned parish choir disbanded until farther notice, probably for duration – not enough men to sing. As well, afternoon post brings Chichester Diocesan Leaflet for October. Bp Wood writes that ‘the war is a judgement against ourselves’. (D read this aloud in mocking voice.) Asked D whether he suspects Bp of being German sympathiser. Said no, just not as clever as he believes that he is & too idealistic for anyone’s good. Idealistic. adj. Aiming for perfection in an unrealistic way. _

_Later still – Plot thickens a bit. Mother got letter from Laura B. in afternoon post. Hasn’t offered to let me read it – no reason why she ought, of course – but think that she showed it to Dad while I was doing dishes after supper & distinctly heard her say that ‘we need to discuss what sort of war service Samantha will perform,’ & ‘What Laura is doing,’ & ‘pretty soon there will be no young people left in this village or the next, they will all have gone to the war.’ (A bit odd, as didn’t want me to go to school with young people in this village or the next, so why worry if I am the only one left?) As well, something about ‘probably not much opportunity here,’ & ‘accommodations for women in service,’ etc. Couldn’t make out what Dad said, & the very instant that I came back to parlour they both fell silent. Meanwhile, encouraging letter to self from Uncle A – obviously meant to be so, at least. Advises patience._

* * *

Thursday 12 October 1939  
_Times reports British Expeditionary Force of 158,000 now in France & Allies gaining strength there, but Scandinavia now in great danger. As well, Women’s Land Army not recruiting at present – farmers don’t want Land Girls, claim can’t do heavy work. Really rather discouraging. _

_Later – Quite sensational news – West Sussex Gazette reports woman murdered in forecourt of Littlehampton police station on Tuesday! Very few details – man charged, apparently pleaded guilty, but no explanation of motive, etc. W.S.G. also offering sewing patterns for gas mask box cover & safety tabard, latter to be made up in white fabric and worn out-of-doors during blackout. Very practical, but have to say tabard not terribly stylish. _

*****

* * *

Friday 13 October 1939  
_Murder on front page of Littlehampton Gazette w large headline, but not much new information. Married Littlehampton woman, 29, fatally stabbed by London man, 33, not her husband. Nothing at all about motive. As well, Littlehampton sailor amongst those killed on HMS Royal Oak. Only 19 years old._

_At any rate will drive Dad to Littlehampton this afternoon for Rural Deanery meeting. Nice day for it – Mother feeling better after past few days, so has decided to come along._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a true story of a radio being played in church (albeit not until 1940), see Norman Longmate, “How We Lived Then: A History of Everyday Life During the Second World War,” pp. 359-96.
> 
> Desmond Stewart is paraphrasing an account in The Times of the Archbishop's sermon at Westminster Abbey on October 1st, 1939. In his third paragraph he invokes (though he does not actually quote) a phrase that appears several times in Proverbs 31.
> 
> Timothy Stewart refers to the incident described in Judges 4 along with examples from both modern and ancient British history.
> 
> In a November 1939 issue of The Fortnightly Review, Bishop Bell published “The Church’s Function in Wartime,” in which he stated that “[the Church] must … encourage the resumption of friendly relations with the enemy nation.” I am imagining in this story that during the previous month Bishop Wood, as author of the article, has had it printed up as a pamphlet and distributed it to his clergy.
> 
> Despite the unpopularity of his opinions with both the Churchill Government and much of the British populace, Bell was apparently considered as the next Archbishop of Canterbury in 1944, and posthumously he became a revered figure in the Church of England, which formally commemorates him each year on October 3rd. A new controversy broke out in 1995, when a woman came forward to accuse him of having repeatedly molested her when she was a child in the late 1940s and early 1950s. The present Bishop of Chichester, Martin Warner, issued a formal apology in 2015, and the Diocese paid the woman a sum in compensation; but in 2016 the Church commissioned an independent review of its own investigation into the allegations, found itself guilty of “a rush to judgement,” and apologized to Bell’s relatives for its handling of the case. In 2019, however, Warner stated that he does not believe that Bell has been definitively exonerated.


	7. Chapter 7

‘Will you remember where we left the car, Samantha?’

‘At the foot of the River Road, Mother. Are you sure you sure that you wouldn’t prefer to walk there? Or we could go back to the car and I’ll drive us to the shore.’

‘One sees more here.’

‘There’s nothing to see in the High Street but shop windows.’

‘We can stop in that tearoom. Look over there – what do you suppose that that woman is doing?’

‘Which woman?’

‘Over _there,_ Samantha. In khaki.’

Sam turns her head to look, being careful not to unbalance her mother, who is leaning on her as much as on her walking stick. Sure enough, a woman in what might be a Women’s Legion uniform – _No,_ Sam thinks, _it can’t be the Women’s Legion, that isn’t the right sort of cap_ – is standing on the footpath over the road, just opposite them. She has a market basket under her arm and is distributing its contents to passers-by.

‘She’s handing out leaflets, I think,’ says Sam.

‘Let’s go and talk with her. She has a nice face.’

Sam knows from long experience that Mother has odd fancies from time to time; they usually pass quickly and rarely amount to very much. _It has to be doing her some good to be on her feet in the fresh air_ , Sam thinks, so she puts up no resistance and lets her mother lead her over the road. The woman evidently hears them coming, and turns around to greet them as they approach.

‘Good afternoon!’ She is about thirty years old, Sam guesses; tall, with a pleasant face, as her mother had said, a bobbed coiffure that went out of fashion several years ago and the faintest of Continental accents – French, perhaps. She introduces herself as Mrs Peake.

‘Good afternoon. I’m Mrs Stewart; this is my daughter, Samantha. Are you in the Auxiliary Territorial Services?’

‘Oh, dear – no,’ Mrs Peake replies, sighing a bit. ‘No, I am in the Mechanised Transport Training Corps. We are a new women’s organisation, not yet a year old – but our _founders,_ you see, were in the Women’s Legion before this year, and simply brought their uniform _with_ them!’

‘Oohh,’ Sam whispers.

‘Really, it was _very_ unfortunate for the Auxiliary Territorial Service to have chosen a uniform that so _strongly_ resembles ours,’ Mrs Peake goes on. ‘Only that we who were _not_ in the Women’s Legion were given this new sort of cap. I don’t care for it, you know – it makes us look as though we were going on a skiing holiday! But in _actuality,_ we provide drivers for civilian officials, and we operate _public_ vehicles – motor coaches and that sort of thing – whose usual drivers have gone into the forces, and we _maintain_ government vehicles of all kinds.’

‘Maintain them! Do you mean as mechanics?’ Mother sounds bemused by this idea.

‘Yes indeed! We have found that women make _excellent_ mechanics. A woman almost _always_ has a better eye for detail than a man, you know. We also _teach_ women how to do these things, and to read maps, and administer first aid, and other matters of that kind. The _only_ thing we do _not_ teach is driving itself – a recruit must already have her license.’

‘My daughter has a driving license.’

‘I’m in the Women’s Legion now,’ Sam explains. ‘The Sussex M.T. Division.’

‘Perfect! And you will not need any new kit! May I give this to you, Miss Stewart?’

Mrs Peake takes something from her basket: the same brochure Sam received in September. Sam feels her face growing hot.

‘Thank you, but I already have a copy.’

‘You _do?_ How did you _obtain_ it?’ Mother asks, sounding thunderstruck.

‘I wrote to Mrs Peake’s organisation at the beginning of last month, just after war was declared. They sent it to me – and an application form, as well.’

‘Where did you learn about... this group?’

‘Aunt Amy gave me a clipping about them, from _The Times_.’

‘ _Did_ she. And why did you not show these things to _me?’_

There is an uncomfortable silence during which Mrs Peake glances somewhere into the distance beyond Sam and her mother, then over the road, then behind her.

‘You haven’t been feeling well, Mother,’ Sam begins at last, ‘and even if you _had_ been, I didn’t think that you’d... be interested.’

_‘Indeed._ Well,’ her mother goes on, _‘I_ haven’t seen that brochure. Might I?’ she asks Mrs Peake.

‘Oh, certainly!’ Mrs Peake replies, handing Mrs Stewart a copy. ‘If I may ask, Miss Stewart, what is your age?’

‘I’m twenty,’ Sam tells her. ‘I won’t be twenty-one until the end of next August.’

‘I see. Well,’ Mrs Peake continues, ‘if you have already corresponded with General Headquarters then of course you know that as a minor you would need to have your father’s permission to enlist.’

‘Yes,’ Sam answers.

‘And without wishing to be indelicate,’ her mother inquires, ‘are your organisation’s rates of pay comparable to those for other women in the forces?’

_‘Ah._ We are civilians, Mrs Stewart, and therefore volunteers, and unfortunately, at present we are not part of His Majesty’s Government. So we are unable to pay our personnel anything at all. They must support themselves,’ Mrs Peake explains, sounding slightly embarrassed. ‘We have hopes that this will change soon, but the Defence Ministry have not shown very much interest in us. _I_ believe that we ought to court the Transport Ministry, but of course it is not for _me_ to say.’

‘Oh, _dear._ Were you aware of _that,_ Samantha?’

‘Yes, Mother, I do know about that. Aunt Amy _didn’t_ at first, apparently, but when I told her about it she said that she would take charge of the problem.’

‘Do you mean to say that she and Uncle Michael have offered to pay for your upkeep, should you join this... body?’

‘Not... _entirely,_ Mother. I think that she meant that she would try to persuade other people in the family to _help_ them do so. Uncle Aubrey and Uncle Timothy and... well, I suppose Uncle Desmond won’t be able to do so now, being a Padre. And... you and Dad, as well,’ Sam finishes up, hoping that she doesn’t sound as astounded as she feels. This is the closest she has ever seen Mother come to thinking in purely practical terms.

‘Mrs Peake,’ Mother begins after appearing to digest this for a moment, ‘my daughter and I are going to stop at that tearoom at the corner. Will you join us?’

Mrs Peake looks torn. Sam’s last speech seems to have piqued her curiosity.

‘I am meant to stand here, handing out these brochures and talking to passersby, as I’m doing now,’ she explains.

‘How long have you been here?’ Sam asks.

‘Nearly three hours, I think.’

‘Then surely you need to sit down!’ Mother exclaims. ‘Perhaps the proprietress would like to have some of those brochures to offer to her guests.’

*****

‘Littlehampton is such a charming place!’ Mrs Peake remarks after the waitress had taken their order.

‘It is,’ Sam replies politely. _Perhaps it’s charming if you haven’t seen it a thousand times,_ she thinks. _Yes, that must be it._ ‘This isn’t where _we_ live, though. My father is Vicar of Lyminster – two miles north of here. We’re only here for the afternoon while he attends a Rural Deanery meeting here.’

‘Where does your organisation’s chapter in Sussex maintain its office?’ Mother asks Mrs Peake. ‘Brighton, I suppose.’

‘ _Ahh..._ ’ Mrs Peake begins softly. ‘We do not _have_ a command in Sussex at present. We are only in London, you see. I’ve been sent here to identify qualified women who are, what is the word, mobile, and can come to London to serve.’

‘ _Ohh..._ ’ Mrs Stewart breathes.

‘I do realise this sounds alarming to some,’ Mrs Peake goes on. ‘But I live in London myself – Kensington – and I can assure you that the most _excellent_ preparations have been made in the event of a German attack – and I must point out that more than a month has passed, nearly six weeks in fact, and there has been _no_ attack as yet.’

‘Yes, that is true,’ Mrs Stewart concedes.

‘We do hope, I may even say that we _plan_ to establish commands wherever we’re needed in the country. When we _do_ have a Sussex command, we shall of course invite those of our members who have come _from_ here to return. Our members undergo training in Lambeth,’ Mrs Peake continues, turning to Sam.

‘Of course, you would have to go and _live_ there, Samantha. I _suppose_ that that is what your aunt had in _mind,’_ Mother remarks, sounding more than faintly aggrieved. ‘Is there a hall of residence?’ she asks Mrs Peake.

‘No – however, I can assure you that when our personnel must be billeted we do everything in our power to ensure that their quarters are completely _suitable_ ,’ Mrs Peake says in a very firm voice.

* * *

Saturday 14 October 1939   
_Didn’t have time to write about this last night, or all day today. (Now past 9.00pm – very busy day!) Chance meeting w member of M.T.T.C. yesterday in Littlehampton, had very good talk with her, though felt that Mother did most of the talking – seemed to take liking to her & bought her tea! Apparently M now thinks M.T.T.C. would be good thing for me to do! Very puzzled about how M’s mind works, but perhaps should not worry about it & simply be grateful._

_To Wick this morning to buy food for next week, found shelves at grocer’s rather bare. Same at greengrocer & fruit monger. Grocer says people are hoarding tinned goods & anything preservable against food rationing in January! Tried in Arundel, not much better luck, greengrocer there said same thing. (Called this a vicious circle – must remember to look this up.)_

_ Times _ _reports A.T.S. have reopened recruiting, want 20,000 new members. Wonder if ought to consider this rather than M.T.T.C. (Or Red Cross?) Didn’t actually say this aloud, or course. Even so Dad told me am spending too much time reading newspapers – just makes me worry about things I’ve no control over. Not first time he has told me this. Advised me to try Ecclesiastes. Will do this tomorrow. D quite upset about another Times item, though – next year’s Lambeth Conference cancelled._

* * *

Sunday, 15 October 1939  
 _First Sunday w no choir – awfully depressing, just nineteen people at Matins._

_Later – Took Dad’s advice, read entire Book of Ecclesiastes after lunch. Agreeably short. (However not as short as Joel.) Quite liked in particular 3:1-8, about there being a time for everything, especially bit from second verse about ‘a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted.’_

_Later still – Wireless announces that we’ve lost another battleship, H.M.S. Royal Oak – torpedoed off Orkney by u-boat very late last night. Only 414 survivors out of approx. 1,200 on board. _   
_Dad quite worried, I think._

* * *

Monday, 16 October 1939  
 _Uncle Desmond telephoned, said he couldn’t tell us where he is or where his regiment is being sent, but quite safe. (Not that he doesn’t know where he is, of course – just isn’t allowed to tell us & perhaps doesn’t actually know yet where they’ll go.)_

_Quite late – wireless reports German attack this afternoon on bridge over Firth of Forth, near Edinburgh – first German air attack on Britain since last war. M &D both quite upset, but M gave me meaningful look when D said that this is a turning point. Did not say turning point in what, though. Attack would have happened just before we heard from Uncle D – wondering now if he was nearby._

* * *

Tuesday, 17 October 1939  
 _Times_ _reports no serious damage done in attack yesterday, but fifteen dead, twelve wounded, all seriously. Letter for Dad in morning post – Uncle A’s hand._

*****

‘Samantha.’

‘Yes, Dad?’

‘Come in and sit down, won’t you? There’s a subject that we need to discuss.’

Being summoned to Dad’s study generally means, in Sam’s experience, that she’s about to be told what she ought to be doing, or what she’s been doing wrong. But his voice sounds different this time, and she notices that he is _asking_ her, not instructing her, to enter the room.

‘Your mother has been telling me about this new women’s brigade,’ he says. The M.T.T.C. recruitment brochure that Mrs Peake gave her mother is on his desk. Sam sees to her surprise that her mother is also in the study, sitting close to the fire. She’s never seen her mother in this room before.

_The war_ , she thinks, _is going to make everything topsy-turvy._

‘I’m not sure whether _brigade_ is quite the right word, Dad,’ she replies. ‘It’s just civil defence, after all.’

‘Nevertheless, they do seem to have been organised in order to fulfill a specific need in a purposeful manner, and to be run _somewhat_ along military lines,’ Dad says. ‘That sounds to me very much like a brigade. In any case, if it were to become necessary for you to present yourself for national service, your mother and I believe that this would be the best place for you.’

‘But,’ says Sam hesitantly, after a moment, ‘it isn’t necessary, is it?’

‘There could be some advantage, Samantha, in volunteering,’ Mother puts in. ‘If you wait for conscription, the authorities, who do not know you and value you as we do, will make the decision as to what service you perform.’

_Well, really_ , Sam thinks, fighting down a spasm of annoyance, _isn’t that just what I tried to say to her more than a month ago – that I ought to join up now, rather than waiting?_

‘Do you _want_ to volunteer, Samantha?’ Mother goes on.

‘Well, yes, I think that I _ought_ to,’ Sam begins. ‘Dad advised me to read Ecclesiastes a few days ago. I did that -’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Dad puts in.

‘- and I noticed one verse in particular: “a time to pluck up that which is planted”.’

‘That is not the _entire_ verse, Samantha, I believe.’

‘But the _point_ is, I’ve been planted _here_ , and perhaps, with the war, it’s time now for me to pluck myself up, at least for a while. I _should_ have to go to London, though,’ Sam points out. _It won’t do any good not to face facts_ , she thinks. ‘Who will look after you when you’re ill, mother?’

‘Perhaps it’s time that I learned to look after myself. I’ve started to wonder whether being able to call upon you as a carer makes me think that I must be ill when in fact I’m not – a vicious circle of sorts.’

Dad turns and looks at his wife affectionately, then turns back to Sam.

‘The question of your leaving home, and particularly of a move to London, is of great concern to both your mother and myself. Your mother says that you and she have spoken with a member of this group,’ he says, tapping his finger on the brochure, ‘who told you that they have made securing appropriate accommodation for their members a matter of highest concern. This being the case,’ he goes on, ‘I will give my consent to your enrollment in this organisation – on several conditions. First, if you are given an opportunity to be of service on the South Coast, you are to seize it at once. Second, I have made some inquiries, and it appears possible that some of these women will be sent to France in the near future.’

‘They’d be quite _mad_ to pick _me_ for that! I know only a few words of French,’ Sam puts in.

‘Be that as it may, you are under no circumstances to accept such an assignment – whether in France or anywhere else outside Great Britain. Third, when hostilities cease, you are immediately to resign and return here, to your home. Finally, in the event that we _are_ still at war at the end of next summer – as seems more than likely, I must now admit – I will travel to see you wherever you are posted at that time. We will evaluate your situation and if it is unsatisfactory you will resign and return home.’

‘I’ll turn twenty-one at the end of next August, Dad,’ Sam reminds him.

‘I intend to visit you before that occurs. Now, I believe there is some form that I must sign in order to make my consent official. Do you have it?’

‘Yes. I haven’t filled it in yet, though.’

‘Please do so at once, and then bring it to me so that I can sign it.’

Sam does not move or speak immediately. Her eyes, she realises to her mild dismay, have filled.

‘Thank you, Dad,’ she says at last, very softly. ‘Thank you both.’ Then she clears her throat and asks, ‘What is a vicious circle?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Resy Peake (1908-1994; née Countess Sophie Thérèse Ghislaine Marie de Baillet-Latour), born in Brussels, took refuge in Britain with her family during the First World War; as an adolescent she divided her time between Belgium and England. In 1933 she married Harald (later Sir Harald) Peake, with whom she had a son, but they had separated by 1939. She joined the Mechanised Transport Training Corps at the beginning of World War II and became the personal staff officer to the founding Corps Commandant, Mrs. G. M. Cook, whom she succeeded in April 1942. Most of this information comes from her obituary in The Times (December 8th, 1994, p. 23). Her speech pattern as given here is a product of my imagination.
> 
> In reality, the M.T.C. did not begin organizing its Kent & Sussex Command until August 1940 – three months after the beginning of Foyle’s War canon! Sometimes a writer simply has to fall back on artistic license… 
> 
> Newspaper accounts indicate that many new recruits to the M.T.T.C. during the first year of the war underwent training in Lambeth.


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

Wednesday, 18 October 1939  
 _Dad signed M.T.T.C. enrollment application yesterday. Now in hands of Royal Mail. Mother persuaded him that it’s a good idea – suspect that he really thinks that it’s the least of all possible evils, but still consider this as miraculous. Must write to Aunt A & Uncle M, Uncle A, etc. _

_Much news in Times, including large number of air raid warnings given yesterday along East Coast though no bombs dropped and no shots fired. As well, four civilians were injured in attack on Firth of Forth, not seriously but including two women. Am hoping that Dad will not notice this. _

* * *

Thursday 19 October 1939  
 _Times reports 1,130 persons in G.B. died in Sept. as result of road accidents – only 617 in Aug. Mostly pedestrians, but drivers must learn to drive in blackout. Shall have to remember this. _

*********

* * *

*****

*****

Friday, 20 October 1939 _  
_ _Wrote to Aunt A & Uncle M & Uncle A. __Littlehampton_ _ Gazette reports man accused in murder last week was in court yesterday but no evidence taken, remanded until next Thursday. No more than that. Also reports on fixed prices for various foods, because they are expected to be in short supply – how awful._

_Remand, v.t.: to send something back to a place._

_Can’t think of anything else to write. Am feeling rather as though am standing on edge of ravine, can see clearly to other side but must wait for signal to jump across._

* * *

* * *

* * *

Tuesday 24 October 1939  
 _Letter arrived today from M.T.T.C. headquarters – I am enlisted as a Driver & have been given instructions and am billeted! Must be in London by Monday at latest! Mother making lists of things for me to pack – think that I have persuaded her that I won’t need absolutely everything that I possess, but not entirely sure._

_Rental & other expenses rather higher than expected, w/ quite long list of things to be bought. Annual subscription is 10/6 & must be paid at once. Will have to find a way to make do.   
_

_Later – Driver is lowest rank – was expecting this but think that D & M are a bit disappointed._

*****

*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The list of items that made up the MTC uniform and the rules surrounding grooming and related matters are based on information gleaned from a number of newspaper advertisements placed by retailers offering to be of service to members and from Jon Mills’ book. 
> 
> Most of what I’ve been able to learn about Mrs. Grace Muriel Cook is included in this story. In 1912 she – or someone with the same name, conceivably – was jailed for a time at Winson Green, Birmingham, for activities in connection with the women’s suffrage movement, but was released in June “owing to ill-health due to the hunger strike,” according to the Shields Daily News for June 27th. In July 1913 she accepted an apology at Marlborough Street Police Court, London (I assume), from a Detective Sergeant Cox for having struck her with a stick that he had in his hand during a “struggle in the dark,” part of “a scene of great disorder at the Pavilion on the 21st inst.,” according to the August 1st issue of The Suffragist. “She was so injured that she had to go home, where she was attended by a doctor.” Cox received a summons accordingly; “As, however, Sergeant Cox had apologised she did not wish to be vindictive, and would not press the matter.”
> 
> I also know that Mrs. Cook died on November 1st, 1970 – “in her 90th year,” according to a paid obituary that appeared in The Times two days later, which implies that she was born in 1879 or 1880. Indeed, the England and Wales Civil Registration Death Index gives her date of birth as February 28th, 1879 – meaning that she was in fact 91 years old at the time of her death. She seems to have had a long-standing habit of lying about her age. Newspaper coverage of her decision to step down as M.T.C. Corps Commandant in April 1942 gives her age as 60, and the 1939 Register gives her birthday as February 27th, 1881! The Register also states that she was married at the time registration was taken, but who her husband was, her maiden name, and indeed anything about her background remain unknown, at least to me.


	9. Chapter 9

**SATURDAY 28th OCTOBER 1939**

* * *

* * *

There is another woman in khaki in the bus queue, of the sort whom people are apt to describe, if they find her agreeable, as ‘a big, jolly girl’. She wears a forage cap and the stripes of an A.T.S. sergeant. She boards the number 12 just ahead of Sam and, turning about as she looks for a seat, sees her, begins to come to attention, then looks confounded as she takes in Sam’s Women’s Legion insignia. Unmistakably disgruntled, she goes upstairs.

Sam is too excited by what the day may bring to be troubled by this for very long. The bus follows a different route than the cab had done on Saturday, making its way through northern Lambeth and then crossing Westminster Bridge and stopping over the road from the Houses of Parliament, where at least a dozen people disembark. Sam is surprised to see no sandbags here.

The bus travels north along Whitehall, then along the south side of Trafalgar Square. The streets of the West End are filled with people, all carrying gas-masks and going about their business with the same faintly tense air of determined calm as those Sam saw in Lambeth on Saturday.

It occurs to her that she must be making a spectacle of herself, gawping at the sights of London in this way, but no-one on the bus appears to take the slightest notice of her. No-one speaks to anyone else, either; Sam concludes that this must be how things are done in London and thinks that it’s rather a pity, but makes a mental note to remember it.

Here is Piccadilly Circus – the fountain in the center is boarded up, the hoardings covered with posters exhorting Britons to pursue service, resolve and morale. Shops in Regent Street and Oxford Street aren’t sandbagged, but their great display windows are largely covered with black-painted boards, each one with opening just large enough to exhibit a single object.

Suddenly the bus is in Cumberland Gate. _Hyde Park,_ Sam thinks with a start, _this is Hyde Park!_

She is taken aback by her own excitement. _How silly. It isn’t as though I’ve never been in London until now. I’ve even been in Hyde Park before._

_But I **live** here now,_ she reminds herself. _At least for a little while._

The bus is passing Marble Arch on the right, but something far more interesting seems to be happening to the bus’s left, where a crowd has gathered: Speakers’ Corner.

And then the bus turns left into Bayswater Road, and Sam begins to keep an eye out for her stop. ‘Just past Porchester Terrace, then make your way back a bit,’ the conductor had told her. The journey now seems very much slower; but here it is her stop at last. Sam alights and walks for a short distance along footpath next to the park – _which must be Kensington Gardens, this far West,_ she thinks – and then comes to a zebra crossing and goes over the road.

She finds Leinster Terrace. _I want Leinster_ Gardens _, though,_ she thinks. Unsure, she turns left into the elegant lane and decides that she will have to ask someone for directions.

A nurse pushing a pram emerges from a vast house on the corner.

‘Oh – pardon me, Nurse, I’m _so_ sorry to bother you – I’m looking for Leinster Gardens. Am I... in the right place?’

‘Near enough, dearie – straight on and you’ll come to it,’ the nurse replies, and wheels the pram in the direction of the park.

Sam continues walking. Sure enough, the street changes to Leinster Gardens, widening a bit as it does so.

There are fewer people out and about in this neighbourhood than in Westminster or Piccadilly, and nearly all of them are women. _People live here, rather than coming to work here_ , Sam concludes.

And here it is – no. 33, Leinster Gardens. Sam stops for moment, puzzled. Whatever she might have expected the Mechanised Transport Training Corps General Headquarters to look like, it surely isn’t this: nothing more than a terraced house amidst many others, albeit a tall and very handsome one, with a stucco façade, a small but quite elaborate columned porch, and a scrap of garden in front of a separate entrance to the basement.

In the vestibule Sam sees that the house has been cut up into flats: there are five letterboxes. A sign affixed to the wall – elegantly lettered, but nevertheless simply a piece of pasteboard – directs her to the second floor.

The door to the second-floor flat is ajar. Three women who must be in their 30s at least stand together in the center of the room, examining and discussing some document. A younger woman sits at a desk near a closed door, speaking on the telephone and taking notes. Everyone is in uniform. At first no one takes any notice of Sam as she stands in the doorway. She doesn’t see Mrs Peake.

Then the closed door opens and Mrs Peake emerges, preceded by a tall, somewhat stout woman with bobbed and marcelled grey hair. Her tunic’s shoulder boards are encrusted with braid. Sam decides that this must be Mrs Cooke. She looks like a grandmother, if one’s grandmother were formidable and a bit frightening.

‘Good morning,’ Sam says. Everyone except the girl talking on the telephone looks in her direction.

‘Ah!’ Mrs Peake exclaims.

Sam stands at attention, turns towards the presumed Mrs Cooke and salutes, trying to remember how she has seen servicemen do this.

‘Driver Samantha Stewart, ma’am, reporting for duty.’

_FINIS_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Walcot Mansions is a real-life apartment building and Charlie Chaplin really did live there as an adolescent, from about 1901 until 1908. It is known today as Walcot Gardens; surprisingly, it has no blue plaque. 
> 
> Sam was probably wise to keep walking: the Norwood News for October 27th, 1939, indicates that Women in the Wind and Magnificent Outcast – both Hollywood films of negligible current reputation – were playing at the Regal Kennington on the 28th. 
> 
> “High time that I started using black ink”: look carefully at the illustrations of Sam’s earlier letters and you’ll see that she has been using blue ink. In the course of my research for this story I came across a statement that in the past this was associated not so much with youth as with immaturity, so the change seems to be of a piece with Sam’s wish to be viewed and treated as an adult. 
> 
> The building where Sam’s training is to take place is the sole remaining part of Royal Doulton’s London pottery, a magnificent Victorian pile of brick and terra cotta at the corner of Lambeth High Street and Black Prince Road. (I have found conflicting information about whether the company continued production in London during the war.) Known today as Southbank House, it provides office space.
> 
> The description of the sandbagged café is based on a photograph I’ve seen, as is the lack of sandbags at the Houses of Parliament and in the West End’s main shopping streets.
> 
> Is there any document so difficult to read as an urban bus map? I’ve done some research, but I’m guessing as to the bus that Sam would have taken between Lambeth and Bayswater. (The no. 148 follows part of the same route today.)


End file.
